September 2, 1941
The world spun before Hattie Selwyn crashed onto the chilly floor. She grasped for breath and clutched desperately at her chest. Her heart raced and sweat prickled her eyes. As the dizziness subsided, Hattie stowed the family time-turner in her robes, ensuring the gilt chain was fully submerged in her blouse.
Damn her mother for never showing her how to work the dastardly contraption. Hattie hadn't even moved far in time. Just a few measly hours sent Hattie into a tailspin. Her mother had always described time travel as a simple spin of the dial. Not the stomach churning, migraine-inducing frenzy she'd experienced over the last few weeks.
Hattie groaned and propped herself on her elbows only to be thrust back onto the stone floor.
"What in the name of Merlin are you doing on the ground," a high pitched voice rang through the corridor. Vera Ogden dug her heel into Hattie's ribcage, constricting her range of movement.
A flash of fury crossed Hattie's face. She hastily assessed her situation. She couldn't retrieve her wand with Ogden's nasty feet on her chest. Vera readjusted her shoe for a better hold and Hattie made her move; a quick roll onto her stomach sent Vera stumbling forward over Hattie.
"What in the name of Merlin are you doing tripping over yourself?" Hattie mocked as she whipped her wand from her robe pocket. She was up before Ogden centered herself.
"Expelliarmus," Hattie whispered. Ogden's wand soared through the air and Hattie snatched it, interrupting its flight path. She twirled it between her fingers, admiring the craftsmanship before heaving it directly at Ogden.
Vera fumbled to recover her wand, shrieking obscenities as she went. She looked around desperately for anybody who had seen what Hattie had just done. But as per usual, nobody witnessed anything. Clearly she needed to find better moments to harass Selwyn.
Hattie turned on her heel and stormed in the other direction. At least she'd have a reason to send her to the hospital wing if Ogden cursed her from behind.
Hattie clenched her fists, suppressing the urge to punch the portraits eyeing her suspiciously. The dizziness subsided but the nausea remained causing Hattie to wobble drunkenly through the halls.
"We saw that, young lady," a portly woman chided from inside a particularly gaudy portrait of a feast. Her comrades nodded in agreement.
"What are you going to do about it?" Hattie huffed. "Go running to Dippet? Don't you have anything better to do with your time?"
The affronted woman whispered to her portrait mates before returning to their meal.
As the horrendous sound of Vera's cries subsided, Hattie slipped into a deserted classroom. The gentle morning sun flooded the room. Dust floated serenely through the strips of light streaming in through the windows.
Her mother had passed exactly three weeks prior and she already couldn't do the one thing she had asked of Hattie.
Returning to school had been a non-negotiable but left minimal time to grieve. Students either pitied her or didn't care. Hattie ceaselessly debated which was worse.
She eyed a three-legged chair and dug her nails into the wood back before heaving it across the room.
It crashed into the professor's desk with a clang that reverberated through the deserted halls.
Hattie stumbled to a corner and slid down the wall with her head in her hands. Her breath haggard and stomach churning, she dropped her head between her knees.
The weight of the time-turner lingered heavy against her heart.